


Beneath Mournful Stars

by Jessilyn



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-12 21:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29516250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessilyn/pseuds/Jessilyn
Summary: Following the events of Holminster Switch, Alisaie seeks solitude to gather her thoughts. Unfortunately, said thoughts have no interest in giving her any sort of solace.
Relationships: Alisaie Leveilleur & Warrior of Light
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Beneath Mournful Stars

Embers crackled and the wind whispered as Alisaie walked the empty path to Holminster Switch. Not a single soul remained, all either fled to the safety of the Crystarium, or perished to an eater’s claw—or worse, joined their ranks. No birds called through the forest. No animals rustled in the underbrush. The unnatural stillness weighed over her, every footstep deafening. How many had been lost here today, she wondered. A near-enough figure would be known in time, but the scale of it was obvious. An entire village, razed in a matter of minutes. 

A breeze caught the branches above her, the noise causing her to jump. Faster than her thoughts, she found her blade in hand, ready to defend from a straggling sin eater or other imagined threat. However, the only thing above her was the distant stars, twinkling through the gnarled branches. She could feel her heart pounding as she stowed her arms, on edge from her surroundings. She was the only soul for malms, but she was at no more ease than in a pitched battle for her life. 

She’d sought the solitude of the woods in order to gather her thoughts, but so far only succeeded in worsening her own guilt. The Crystal Exach and Captain Lyna had been swift to depart for the Crystarium, but Lailathwen and her brother had lingered, clearly concerned for her well-being. She had insisted she would be fine, simply needing some time privately, but now that she was alone with her thoughts, they were increasingly harsh upon her. 

_It’s your fault they’re dead._

_Had you trained harder, you could have saved them._

_You’re holding the Warrior of Light back._

With a growl, she shook her head, trying to dislodge the gnawing doubts. She paused, taking in her surroundings. Creaks of rusted hinges called from the destroyed buildings nearby. She had found her way into the clearing, where she... where she and the others had struck down—

No! Even in her mind, she couldn’t bear to say it, to acknowledge that the girl was gone, turned, and slain. Alisaie had failed to protect her and Halric both in Ahm Areng, and she was one who had cut the poor girl down at this very spot as a result. There’d been no other choice, and yet... Filled with sudden repulsion, she unhooked her rapier from her doublet, scabbard and all, and cast it away into the dirt. A wail erupted from deep within her as she dropped her knees, the agony, the fear, the pain all rushing free of her. Unwelcome tears darkened the ground below her. She’d spent time assisting at the Inn at Journey’s End, and was no stranger to loss. She’d seen tearful goodbyes, sobbing breakdowns. Empathetic, but never _truly_ understanding—not that she realized at the time. Now she did, only too well.

Compounding her anguish, her antagonistic thoughts reminded her that she wasn’t the only soul lost in this attack. Even now, likely the Exarch and her brother would be aiding the sick and wounded, taking a head count of who was fortunate enough to still be breathing. However, the decaying cocoons around her were a testament that they were the minority, the exception. Her mind swirled, alternating between chiding herself for not doing more, and lamenting there was naught else she could have done. Either she failed everyone who had perished at the claws of an Eater this day, or she never could have actually succeeded. She was unsure which was worse. 

Her mind drifted back, to the moment after the deed had been done. With labored breathing, she had dropped to one knee, the physical and emotional toll extracting every onze of her strength. The Exarch, Lyna, and her beloved god-slayer dashed forward to quell the next set of beasts, while she could hardly move. Alphinaud stood over her, concern plain on his face. “Alisaie? You’ve gone pale.” His words rang hollow through her skull, a million malms away. It was all she could muster to grunt a weak affirmation, and force herself to her feet. She shook her head, trying to clear the fog clouding her mind, while the clashing of steel, snarling of beasts, and blasts of a gunblade boomed from over the next rise. “I’m fine. They need us, let’s go.” She’d said, her voice filled with false resolve. The two had dashed off after that, and she thanked the Twelve she had managed to maintain composure from then until now. At least no one was around to see her like this. 

As if on cue, the soft patter of footsteps came from behind her. She whipped around to see her stalker, and—of course. Lailathwen, the Warrior of Light. Who else? Come to check on the sad, lonely child. She quietly grumbled to herself as she stood, dusting the worst of the dirt off herself. “I thought I said I wasn’t to be followed,” she called out. Alphinaud was bad enough with his incessant worrying over her. Even if he wasn’t _quite_ as anxious now as in Gyr Abania, she hardly needed a second person fretting for her. 

The Warrior of Light stood unimpressed, a self-assured look on her face, as always. “You did, yes. Then the bells ticked by, and poor Alphinaud couldn’t stop worrying about you. It’s fine, though, I told him there was naught to to be concerned about. You just needed some time to process this. Alone.” 

“Then, you’re here because...?”

She smirked, hands on her hips. “He believed it. Doesn’t mean I do. How are you holding up?”

Alisaie scoffed, “Badly, though I suppose that much is obvious.” She sniffled, tears still clinging to her eyes, and forced a hollow smile she knew wouldn’t fool either of them. Even with the pretense shattered, she couldn’t help herself. It was preferable to Lailathwen pitying her.

Silence hung between them for a short while, neither sure of the best words for the other. It ended when Lailathwen took Alisaie’s hand, intent to delve deeper into Holminster Switch. “Let’s get a change of scenery, yeah? I think we’ve had enough of here.”

* * *

Alisaie was in a daze for most of their journey. Laila had led her back to Lakeland, to a perch near the gates to Holminster Switch. With a bit of clambering, the two soon had a breathtaking view of the terrain below them. While The Source was obscured by the imposing ruins of Laxan Loft, the upper levels of the Crystarium peaked out past mountains to the south. With a quiet groan, the warrior sat down on the cliff edge, gaze locked on the Crystal Tower. She quietly patted the grass next to her. “Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind? You can be candid.” 

Alisaie paused, considering how to respond as she took a close seat. She was not in the habit of baring her soul and deepest fears, let alone to the Warrior of Light. Where would she even start? And really, could someone like her really understand Alisaie’s worries? How could she, who had vanquished gods by the dozen, relate to the fear of not being strong enough, of not doing enough. But to say as much would be incomprehensibly inconsiderate! And...

It was a quiet chuckle that pulled Alisaie from her musings. Noticing the amused smile on Lailathwen’s face, her eyes went wide with embarrassment as she realized she’d been thinking _out loud_. Before she could stammer out a hasty apology, Laila held up a hand to stop her. “It’s alright,” she murmured, looking out over Crystarium. “I understand how you feel.”

There was a long pause before either of them spoke again. “I keep seeing her face. Knowing I let her down. It wasn’t like this with Grandfather,” Alisaie eventually confided.

Laila nodded slowly. “I’d imagine. It’s heartbreaking when fate takes a loved one away, but when we could have possibly intervened, perhaps prevented it … The guilt eats away at you. It’s soul-crushing.”

She need not say their names. Alisaie knew, through Alphinaud’s stories, that Laila spoke of Ser Haurchefant and Lady Ysayle, and her own regrets regarding them. Regrets she’d carried since well before the two had reunited in Ishgard. “How do you bear it? Fend off the guilt, just to function?” She looked up at Laila’s wistful smile. 

Lailathwen looked down in turn, placing her hand over Alisaie’s as they locked eyes. Alisaie reflexively cast her gaze away, feeling the color rising in her cheeks. “A good deal of help from one’s friends.” She felt the grip on her hand tighten, forcing her gaze back to the warrior. “Usually in spite of myself. I hate to think how often your brother’s seen me a sobbing wreck. Glad he’s not one to consider blackmail.” Laila’s hollow laugh barely registered with Alisaie, who was taken trying to imagine the Warrior of Light so vulnerable. It seemed so incongruous with her vision and understanding of her champion. In a way, it was a little relieving, knowing that even a paragon such as her carried similar doubts. “But that’s more or less the way of it,” she continued. “You lean on others until you can stand on your own again, and then... the hurt never really goes away, but it softens over time. Less a piercing wound and more a throbbing ache. Their memory becomes another reason to be better.”

Alisaie’s fist clenched as the guilt, which had begun to quietly ebb away, came flooding back. If she’d _been_ better, it might not have come to this at all. It always came back to strength, the power to force one’s will unto the world. The only way to ensure your dreams and ideals was with a blade. As Alisaie struggled to gather the words to express her thoughts, Laila‘s arm rose to wrap around the girl’s shoulder, interrupting her train of thought. “Ah ah,” She chided softly, “I know what you’re thinking, and it’s a trap. There is no ‘strong enough’ that will prevent heartache. Seeking it for that reason alone will only bring you more pain.”

Alisaie looked up at her, eyes beginning to water as thoughts of Tesleen, Halric, and everyone else threatened to break her composure once again. “But is it not true? If I had been faster, more aware, more attentive, perhaps Halric would not have wandered off! Perhaps I would have seen the eater before it stuck Tesleen, or be able to intercept the blow! There were so many things I could have done, ought to have done, and didn’t. Couldn’t. Because I wasn’t strong enough.” The tears had returned at full force, and Alisaie’s voice was wildly wavering.

Laila, meanwhile, was as stoic as ever, compassionate but sure. She pulled Alisaie in close, the half-hug holding her and providing some measure of comfort. “I know, I know, I’m all too familiar with those thoughts. The banquet in Ul’dah. Rhalgar’s Reach. There’ve been times I’ve failed the people who depend on me, too. Times I’ve lost people dear to me. Times innocents died because of my weakness, or my hubris. Times I wasn’t strong enough.”

The Warrior of Light, Champion of Eorzea, not strong enough? The woman a hundred times mightier than Alisaie could ever hope to be, lamenting her weakness?! A sick joke if ever there was one. “But that’s different!” She interjected, voice raspy from the emotional outburst, “In Ul’dah, you couldn’t just slaughter Brass Blades, you _had_ to run! And against Zenos, you did defeat him in the end!”

“But laying him low doesn’t bring them back, does it? Nor the Crystal Braves slain to cover treachery.” 

Even as she spoke so mournfully, Laila’s sly smile towards Alisaie put her ill at ease, as if a hunter luring their prey. She shook her head to banish those thoughts, instead considering her response, and how absurd it was that anyone could ask for more from the Warrior of Light. She who had fought so hard, sacrificed so much for the greater good, for people she’d never meet. “Even so, you did the best you could. No one could ask for more, have hoped for more.”

“For what it’s worth, few have. Only one does with any frequency, and, well... you’re looking at her. That’s why we’re like this. After all, I could provide you all those same words of encouragement. They’re just as true directed at their speaker.” Alisaie quickly looked away, embarrassed to have been caught in such an obvious feint. Her cheeks were burning, though perhaps not only from falling into Laila’s rhetorical trap, who continued regardless. “Our best is never enough, because we hold onto the hope, the twisted dream, that we could be better than we are, that we could save everyone. Looking at others, we can see them for who they are, celebrate their strengths and forgive their faults. Ourselves, though…”

She withdrew her arm and let out a deep sigh, her breath just visible in the increasingly brisk night air. “It’s never enough. I held off one of the strongest men on the face of Hydaelyn to buy time for others to flee, and you fought today with the strength and ferocity of ten. But are we satisfied? Do we stand tall for what service we rendered, or do we retreat upon ourselves, thinking about each person we failed? Take it from me—becoming stronger in the arts of war doesn’t make those thoughts go away.”

A long pause hung between them. 

“So... what does?”

Another pause, Laila clearly contemplating her response. “I wish I knew. I suspect it’s our lot in life. But the kind words of a friend always seem to settle them, at least for a bit. To be reassured you did your best, that all will be alright in the end.”

Alisaie looked up at the stars. She couldn’t deny she felt better now than when Laila had found her. The sorrow was still present, but wasn’t as overwhelming as before. One thing still gnawed at her mind, though, and she couldn’t help but ask. “What happens then when it won’t be alright? When it really becomes too much to bear?”

Laila matched Alisaie’s gaze to the heavens above, expression unreadable. “Well, I can only speculate. Perhaps it’ll be over before I even realize it’s happening. If not, I hope I go with some dignity. I have no intention to lay down and die any time soon, and I’m sure I’ll be doing what I can to the very end, but I’d rather maintain my composure throughout. When I fall, others will ever be there to carry my blade onward. I hope you’ll be among them.”

Alisaie felt her blood run cold, thinking about what she would do without the warrior to depend on. She folded her arms over her chest, vainly trying to combat the chill that was suddenly running through her. Still, should it happen, Laila wouldn’t want her to become consumed by guilt and grief, but to press on for the sake of others. Tesleen would have wanted the same. She always was more concerned about others’ well being than her own. Even to the end...

Alisaie was pulled out of her thoughts with a jump as she felt a hand upon her, Laila lightly rubbing her back. Her gaze, meanwhile, was cast away from Alisaie, a somewhat remorseful look on her face. “Apologies, I’m being morbid. I shouldn’t give voice to such worries.” She turned to head to make eye contact, blue eyes seeming to sparkle. “Your love for others is the source of your strength and conviction. It must be tempered, however, lest it strangle rather than empower you. Always push forward, not from guilt and regret, but to honour their memory.”

Alisaie looked away, the words of encouragement familiar. “...For those we have lost, for those we can yet save, hmm?” A common refrain within the Scions, but no less true for it. Perhaps this was the first time Alisaie had truly understood it. 

Laila smiled. “Indeed. Grief is a lonely struggle, but ask if there’s aught else I can do. You can lean on me, your brother, any of us, for as long as you require. Loss is a part of life, but how we cope with it is up to us. You can’t dwell exclusively in the past, not when the future is spread out before us.”

Alisaie looked into those sparkling eyes for what felt like an eternity, mulling her words over. The things she’d seen, the tears she’d must have shed in her travels. And here she was, still standing, stronger for it even. Able to speak with such hope, and faith in her comrades. Faith in her. With an embarrassed smile breaking out across her face, Alisaie cleared her throat, unable to restrain herself. “If it might be so selfish then, may I make a request? “

“Anything.”

Alisaie felt the red rising in her cheeks, but she had said so much already, she had no choice but to commit. “Perhaps we could sit here, for just a moment longer. I’ll be ready to go back to the Crystarium soon, just... not yet.” Laila nodded, and wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. The exhaustion of the day finally catching up with her, Alisaie laid her head against her protector’s chest as she closed her eyes, the twinkling stars above them her last sight before she drifted peacefully to sleep. 


End file.
